


A State of Denial

by orphan_account



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Established Relationship, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-10 23:00:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4411232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Do you want to come, Kei?” Yamaguchi asks in a voice sweet like candy, but if Tsukishima looked, he’d bet anything that the bastard was grinning at him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A State of Denial

**Author's Note:**

> for [this](http://hqkink.dreamwidth.org/1761.html?thread=76257#cmt76257) on the kink meme -- yamaguchi/tsukishima + orgasm denial.
> 
> didnt end up following the prompt exactly but... hope you enjoy anyways!!

“Tadashi…”

They’re in Tsukishima’s room, on his bed, with the curtains drawn. The room is dark and the air is heavy and cool on Tsukishima’s skin. The only noise in his room is his own breathing—hot, heavy, and labored, chest heaving and throat gasping for air whenever Yamaguchi pushes down on him.

One of Yamaguchi’s hands snakes down his body, fingers drawing over slick skin, over his chest and down his abdomen. He presses lightly against the front of his boxers, making Tsukishima shiver and his back arch, before pulling back again.

“Kei,” Yamaguchi answers back, just as sweetly. He tangles his fingers through Tsukishima’s hair and pulls him forward. He’s a blurry mess in front of Tsukishima without his glasses; he sees splotches of tan skin and freckles and messy dark hair right before they kiss. Yamaguchi devours his moans and Tsukishima fights back as best as he can, slipping his tongue into Yamaguchi’s mouth, drool dribbling down his chin, but he relents easily.

“You look really cute.” Yamaguchi giggles and strokes the back of his head gently, massaging his neck and then his shoulders. Tsukishima shifts awkwardly, readying himself for whatever Yamaguchi is about to do. He doesn’t get massages for nothing. “You’re blushing a lot.”

Tsukishima strains against him as Yamaguchi slips onto his lap, legs resting on either side of Tsukishima’s. He has to look up to see him, now. He’s smiling softly, eyes twinkling, looking at Tsukishima with so much affection that he moans, “Tadashi, come on.”

“You’re so impatient,” Yamaguchi clicks his tongue disapprovingly and slips his hand between the fabric of Tsukishima’s boxers and his body. His hand skirts dangerously close to his crotch and Tsukishima bucks his hips, thighs tensing in anticipation. Yamaguchi strokes the skin there with care, brushing his fingers over the supple insides of his thighs, making him quiver. “Do you want me to touch you…?”

It’s more of a command posed as an innocent question— _Make me touch you._

“Yes,” Tsukishima gasps, burying his face against Yamaguchi’s neck and sucking in a deep breath. The air doesn’t seem to get to his lungs when Yamaguchi fits his hand over Tsukishima’s cock and _tugs,_ hard. “Tadashi,” he grits his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut.

Yamaguchi strokes him with a feather-light touch that leaves his body shaking and his head spinning.

“Ta—Ah, Tadashi,” he calls again. Yamaguchi presses down harder, runs his hand up and down over his shaft, over and over. His stomach feels tight, churning with heat and desire. He bucks his hips and Yamaguchi holds him down, rubbing his thumb over his slit.

“Do you want to come, Kei?” Yamaguchi asks in a voice sweet like candy, but if Tsukishima looked, he’d bet anything that the bastard was grinning at him.

But Tsukishima is weak and pliant under Yamaguchi’s touch and he moans back, “Yes—yes, _god_ , yes.”

Yamaguchi puts both his hands on Tsukishima’s cock and pulls. Tsukishima sobs against his shoulder, sensitive, body tingling as he wavered just on the brink of orgasm.

—And then Yamaguchi pulls back, leaving Tsukishima throbbing hard against his stomach and moaning against his side.

“What—what the fuck, Tadashi, come on,” he begs, rubbing himself against Yamaguchi’s thigh in a pitiful attempt to get his orgasm back. The throbbing in his crotch is unbearable and he cries out in frustration when Yamaguchi removes his hand from his boxers. The band of the fabric snaps back and hits his cock and he can only groan, toes curling.

He looks at Yamaguchi, that same serene smile drawn over his face, cheeks flushed in what could only be a mixture of pride and embarrassment.

“Later, okay?” Yamaguchi whispers against his ear. He nips lightly at the soft skin and then climbs off his lap. “I’m going to do my homework now.”

“You’re—you can’t be serious,” Tsukishima gasps. Yamaguchi grabs something from the bedside table and then slips Tsukishima’s glasses on for him. He can see Yamaguchi clearly now, the wet tent in front of his pants and the sweat sheened over his skin. “You want this too.” Tsukishima reaches out for him and he takes a step back, shaking his head.

“Later,” his boyfriend insists. He smooths down Tsukishima’s hair like he’s reassuring him when they sit down on his floor to study, but he absorbs no information when he’s still straining against his stomach, tears pricking the corner of his eyes, Yamaguchi pressing a loving kiss to his cheek.  
  


* * *

  
Yamaguchi yelps when Tsukishima pushes him into an empty stall in the bathroom.

“Tadashi.” He musters the best glare he can when Yamaguchi looks confused, wide-eyed and open-lipped. It shouldn’t come as a surprise to him, considering what he did to him last night.

“Um,” Yamaguchi laughs, eyes flickering everywhere but Tsukishima’s face, and Tsukishima’s pretty sure that he _knows._ He presses his elbow beside Yamaguchi, trapping him. “Hi, Tsukki.”

“Tadashi,” he repeats, and Yamaguchi doesn’t complain when he angles their hips together. He can’t feel it, but he can remember the feeling—uncomfortable and tight after being denied his orgasm. It comes back quickly.

Yamaguchi brushes his knee against the front of Tsukishima’s pants. “W-We shouldn’t do this here,” he mumbles, but he rubs over him anyways. _Dirty asshole,_ Tsukishima thinks.

“No one comes in here,” Tsukishima mutters and pushes down both their pants are the same time. Yamaguchi giggles at his dinosaur boxers and Tsukishima pointedly ignores him, grasping the waistband of Yamaguchi’s boxers and shoving them away so he can wrap his hands around Yamaguchi’s cock.

“Ah,” Yamaguchi gasps, shutting his eyes. Tsukishima looks down at him and licks his lips—his face is a splotchy red, his mouth slick. Tsukishima kisses him and Yamaguchi melts against him instantly, pressing his tongue to every crevice inside Tsukishima’s and making his knees weak. “Tsu… Mn, Tsukki…”

“I’m going to get you off,” Tsukishima breathes out against Yamaguchi’s shoulder, his forehead pressing against the bathroom wall. “And then—you’re going to get me off.”

Yamaguchi presses himself upward against Tsukishima’s hand. Tsukishima wraps his fingers, long and deft, around him, and strokes him to the beat of Yamaguchi’s breathing. Slow, and then faster and faster when Yamaguchi begins to pant.

It never takes long for him to come like this, and he does, all over Tsukishima’s hand. He raises it to his mouth and laps it up as best as he can without gagging; he’s too hard to move anywhere.

Yamaguchi watches him through cat-like eyes, and then he grins. It sends an unfamiliar, uncomfortable feeling to the pit of his stomach.

“Thanks, Tsukki,” he chirps, then gently pushes Tsukishima aside and moves to exit the stall.

“Wh—” He feels like he’s been punched in the gut when Yamaguchi pulls back from him. The coil in his crotch tightens and no, no, _no_ , Yamaguchi is _not_ leaving him here like this. He catches Yamaguchi’s wrist and practically whines when he has to shift his legs. It’s embarrassing. He wants to hate this, but experiencing it only makes him harder.

He lets out something like a mix between a choke and a sob when Yamaguchi only keeps smiling at him, not even bothering to shift closer.

“You said you’d get me off.” His voice cracks.

Yamaguchi cocks his head, the perfect picture of innocence. “Sorry, Tsukki,” he smiles sheepishly. “I didn’t reply at all.”

Tsukishima slides down the wall after Yamaguchi leaves and sucks on his fingers, coating them in saliva until his head gets dizzy. He strokes himself to completion and comes all over himself, pants stained with cum, throat tightening and heart hammering against his chest.

It’s not the same.  
  


* * *

  
“Whoa,” is all Yamaguchi says when he walks into his room to find Tsukishima splayed out on his bed, legs spreading and fingers shoved deep inside himself.

“You—fuck,” Tsukishima hisses and pulls out his fingers. He feels cold and empty and he immediately regrets it, hips stuttering to be filled again. “Y-You said you’d be here an hour ago.”

“I picked up food for us.” Yamaguchi sets the grocery bag onto the ground by his door and then walks over to the bed, hovering over Tsukishima. “You… um…”

Tsukishima whines, incoherent, when Yamaguchi holds one hand on his hip, the other tracing around Tsukishima’s entrance.

“You’ve been busy,” Yamaguchi finishes, laughing quietly to himself. He presses the tip of his finger into him and it’s rough and harsh from the dryness but moans, palms turning white as he fists the sheets.

“This is all—ahn, this is all your fault,” Tsukishima gasps.

Yamaguchi just laughs, cheeks colouring. It does funny things to Tsukishima’s heart and his cock, leaking against his stomach.

“Lube?” Yamaguchi asks. Tsukishima grabs the bottle from behind him. It seeps all over the sheets, cap already opened, and Yamaguchi coats it all over his fingers.

He replaces the single dry finger inside him with two wet ones—they press in easily and while he’s tight, he’s not tight enough that it _hurts_. He’s hot, pulsing and squeezing Yamaguchi’s fingers. Tsukishima slips his eyes shut and falls with his back to the bed, elbows giving out on him.

“Tadashi—please,” he groans. Yamaguchi doesn’t waste any seconds. Tsukishima doesn’t mind the edge as Yamaguchi rams into him, hooked fingers catching at his walls, the lube squelching in between his hand and Tsukishima’s entrance. He pushes deeper and deeper until he has to slip a third finger in, catching his prostate. “Fuuuck,” Tsukishima sobs, burying his face against his pillow.

Yamaguchi rubs at his prostate and Tsukishima is so hard he think he may die. He rides Yamaguchi’s fingers, biting down on his sheets and smearing pre-cum all over his blankets. Yamaguchi pulls open the cheeks of his ass so he can thrust his hand in and out, right up to the knuckle before he pulls back again.

Tsukishima cries out as Yamaguchi thrusts into him, slamming his fingers into him over and over until Tsukishima is sobbing, putty under Yamaguchi’s touch, his cock _finally_ releasing. Tsukishima’s hips snap back so fast and his vision gets so blurry that he’s afraid he might have broken something, his body unable to untense from his orgasm.

Yamaguchi pulls out his hand and wraps his arms around him, pressing kisses to his cheek. Something like ‘so good, so good’ and ‘wow, you’re cute, Tsukki.’ Tsukishima feels limp and sweaty, relaxing against Yamaguchi’s touch when the other boy rubs his hand up and down Yamaguchi’s lower back, coaxing him to go pliant underneath him.

“You’re really cute when pretend you to be mad like that.” Yamaguchi kisses his cheek and Tsukishima skin tingles where his lips press. He can feel how hard he’s blushing.

“Trust me,” Tsukishima says, then moans when Yamaguchi’s hand slips to his front and takes hold of his cock again. The heat in his stomach stirs in appreciation. “It wasn’t pretend.”

He can’t be that mad, though—not when Yamaguchi sucks him off after what feels like forever, then fucks him on his hands and knees while he sobs, oversensitive.

Tsukishima’s seeing stars by the end of the night.

(Tsukishima gets back at Yamaguchi later, riding him and watching the way Yamaguchi’s face contorts whenever Tsukishima lifts himself then sinks back down. But he’s pretty sure Yamaguchi enjoys it too, by the way he grips Yamaguchi’s hips and smiles at him tenderly.

 _Perverted bastard_ , Tsukishima thinks, but he can’t deny that he may be one too. Just a little.)

**Author's Note:**

> http://mermaidfiesta.tumblr.com/
> 
> i dont have a good feel about this fic... idk its not as good as most of my others but it was just a quick fill i wrote & ive had major writers block lately so 
> 
> ive been getting more comments on my fics though and ahh i just want to thank everyone who comments and kudos and bookmarks etc!! it means so much to me i literally tear up sometimes...
> 
> thank you for reading!


End file.
